


Our… Something (Because I’ll Be Damned If I Can Describe This One)

by AppleGrenade



Category: Scrubs
Genre: Dr. Cox's Sexual Harassment, Janitor being the Janitor, M/M, Sleepingus Interruptus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-16
Updated: 2013-07-16
Packaged: 2017-12-20 08:56:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/885402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AppleGrenade/pseuds/AppleGrenade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in the timeline where Dr. Cox and the Janitor are not merely beer buds, but much <strong>much</strong> more. I believe that some things just must be written, even though it probably mustn’t. This is one of those things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our… Something (Because I’ll Be Damned If I Can Describe This One)

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: Of course I don’t own the show, Susan. Just look at the number of times Dr. Cox isn’t shirtless. (Damn it!)
> 
> WARNINGS: I swear the premise sounded plausible when I screamed it in my head. Also, the Janitor is the Janitor, because I couldn’t quite come up with a suitable name. Then again, no one ever did.

 -----

“Don’t make a sound.”

Dr. Perry Cox’s eyes flew open at the feel of a rough palm covering his mouth and his body instinctively jerked away while his mouth screamed bloody murder.

Well, his body would’ve jerked away and his mouth would’ve screamed bloody murder if it weren’t for a strong hand that was swiftly gripping both his wrists above his head added by the full weight of a 6’ 5” man suddenly atop him. Let’s not forget the said rough palm that had now clamped tighter around his mouth, preventing him from making as much as a squeak.

Not that you can blame him for trying. Up until a few moments ago, Dr. Cox had been deep in slumber… Oh, who was he kidding? It had been a hot day that turned into an even hotter night. Half an hour under the cool spray of his shower and a bottle of cold beer weren’t much help. The air-conditioner might as well be called an oven for all the cool air it was supposed to spew out. He’d tossed and turned for what must’ve been the worse part of an hour, kicking everything off his bed except for a pillow and the sheets, both slightly damp from sweat, before he finally managed to drift off.

Only to find himself awake again - breathless and pinned by none other than the Janitor.

Worse still, he had slept in nothing but his boxers.

Even worse still, the cotton t-shirt and Jeans the Janitor was wearing were sliding deliciously against him, making his bare skin tingle in the most unsettling way.

Needless to say, it hadn’t turned out to be a good day for Dr. Cox.

“Hey, it’s me. Now, I’ll take my hand off your mouth but you gotta promise you won’t scream.”

What else can he do but nod?

It was probably a good thing the Janitor didn’t get off of him or let go of his wrists, for as soon as his mouth was free, Dr. Cox inhaled a deep breath and yelled: “What the fuck d’you think you’re doing?”

“Calm down! S’just me, alright?”

“Calm down, my foot! You scared the bejeesus outta me,” he retorted. “How the hell did you get in here anyway?”

“Didn’t mean to. Sorry.” Except that the Janitor didn’t sound sorry at all as he flashed some keys, which, based on this situation, were probably copies of the keys to this apartment.

“When the hell did you have my keys copied?”

“Since you moved here.”

I should’ve known… “How the hell did you disable my alarm?”

The Janitor simply shrugged. “Can’t give you the details. Let’s just say I know a guy.”

“Okay…” He decided to just go ahead and ask the really crucial question as he was starting to get a headache. “Do I dare ask what the hell d’you want from me at,” he glanced at his bedside clock and grunted miserably before turning his face back to his… assailant. “3.07 in the morning?”

He didn’t get a verbal answer to the last question; instead, the Janitor swooped down and claimed his lips in a deep, bruising kiss.

Oh.

As soon as the realisation dawned on him, he struggled against the Janitor and succeeded in freeing his mouth. “Stop. No.”

“No?”

“I just had a 12-hour shift. I’ve got to get back to work in less than 3 hours and I’ve barely slept. So, no!” He scowled to emphasise this, knowing that he sounded breathless (because he was) and that the incorrigible Janitor would doubt him because of it.

For a moment it seemed like the Janitor sincerely considered his words, that is, until the next moment arrived. “Eh, don’t care.”

Dr. Cox barely managed half a syllable of protest before the Janitor silenced him with another kiss.

\-----

Had it been a minute? Maybe three? He couldn’t tell. Not that he could actually think properly – his brain functions had one by one either ran amok or deserted him altogether with each searing kiss, and the Janitor showed no signs of letting up, plunging deeper and deeper into his mouth as each moment passed.

Pillaging him, robbing him of moans and whimpers.

Dr. Cox’s head was swimming – he needed air but somehow he knew he needed this more: every teasing swipe of the Janitor’s tongue against his own; each tormenting brush of their lips; the callused palm spread over his cheek and jaw, guiding him… Even the additional heat from the body atop him felt comfortable whereas the hot night air was stifling him before. And just when he thought he was going to faint from lack of oxygen, the Janitor moved his attention to his ear.

“Oh, God!”

Another lick and he wanted to squirm away so badly but the Janitor’s palm was still holding his face in place.

“I like it that you’re so responsive.” His breath tickled every nerve in the doctor’s ear and, as God would have it, made him tremble all the way to his toes.

“Shut the- ah!” A bite at his earlobe cheated him of his retort. Another long languorous lick made him forget it altogether.

It’s just an ear, damn it! You can’t surrender to the wielder of plungers just because he’s toying with your ear!

Or so he thought when the Janitor shifted and started kissing his jaw, then nibbling, then dragging his teeth oh-so-torturously all the way down to where neck and shoulder meet.

A sharp bite that made him gasp was quickly followed by the Janitor’s hot mouth on his skin, sucking the bite mark, nibbling it, then licking and sucking it again relentlessly. A tiny voice at the back of his mind warned him that turtlenecks wouldn’t be suitable for this sweltering weather. The voice decided to shut up when the Janitor moved back to reclaim his mouth.

Fiercely. Nibbling and biting at his already bruised lips. Sucking at his tongue. Unforgiving but oh god so good! And then the palm was no longer holding his face but has moved down to pinch a nipple. And his groan died in his throat as the Janitor moved to suck at his Adam’s apple at the exact same time. Then down to his collarbones. Then down to his chest.

Then the hot mouth replaced the pinching fingers – kissing, sucking, licking and biting mercilessly before moving on to the other nipple and repeating the torturous play and Dr. Cox had to bite down on his lips so he wouldn’t scream. But he didn’t have to; because the Janitor knew from the way he threw his head back into his pillow and how his body arched up and the way his arms strained futilely against the Janitor’s iron grip that this was driving him insane.

Just when he thought he would lose it, the Janitor stopped tormenting him and kissed a trail up his chest, his neck, his chin and back at his lips. Though softly this time, borderline loving.

It made him even more breathless.

“Okay there, doc?” His calm voice was a sharp reminder to Dr. Cox of how their situations were contrasting. The Janitor was still fully clothed while he was in nothing but thin cotton boxers and a film of sweat covering his body. Not only that, he was gasping for air whereas the Janitor was not even out of breath.

“Let go of my arms,” he somehow managed to make it sound irritable although from where he found the voice for it he neither knew nor cared to ponder.

“No.”

No surprise there. “Please…”

“Beg all you want, the answer’s still no.”

That does it. “Damn it, I wasn’t beg- Ah!”

He knew he heard the Janitor laugh, but he couldn’t make himself care as his mind was fully occupied by the feel of long fingers closing firmly around his shaft.

“Like that, don’t cha. You’re so sensitive. So much fun to play with ya. And don’t you worry your pretty little head about your arms. I’ll let them go. Just not yet.”

“F- fuck!” He had meant to curse the Janitor but his brain misinterpreted his intention as the latter has started languidly moving his fingers up and down his manhood. The layer of cotton separating his and the Janitor’s skins not only did not act as a barrier; it actually enhanced the experience by providing friction so delicious it took all of his willpower not to sob.

And then the Janitor’s mouth returned to kiss him fully and lazily, matching in pace with what his hand was doing to him down there. Slowly. Excruciatingly. And then his thumb rubbed non-too-gently against the tip of his cock

And again. Harder. Tracing circles that expanded in circumference. Teasing him, driving him wild.

The last thing Dr. Cox remembered before his brain totally shut down was his legs spreading wider as he surrendered himself to this tantalising madness.

\-----

Almost two hours later, Dr. Cox lay down to catch his breath. The solitary pillow and sheets which were only slightly sweat-damp earlier felt sticky with their bodily effluvia. He felt dirty but too exhausted to care. The Janitor, on the other hand, seemed to have limitless strength as he got up, pulled the sheets off the bed and chucked it to a corner of the bedroom. The pillow followed suit.

“So, mind explaining to me what the hell just happened?”

The Janitor grabbed a clean pillow from the floor that had been kicked off earlier and settled down facing him on the bed. “I fucked you three times. Weren’t you here?”

He smirked in a most mischievous manner which would’ve so deserved a backhand smack if it weren’t for the fact that Dr. Cox was so very tired and sore. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“Eh, was watching an old episode of House. The girl doctor said men are lucky they can only have one orgasm.”

That made him turn his head. “Really? She did?”

“Yep. Thought that didn’t sound quite right, so I figured an experiment is in order.”

“Huh.” Of course… “Well, next time you wanna prove a point, go find someone else.”

“That’s what you said last time,” he paused to grin an utterly evil grin. “And the time before that too.”

Dr. Cox groaned but scooted towards the Janitor and put his arms around him.

“Hey, watcha doing? I heard you tell blonde doctor the other day you don’t spoon.”

“Well, you shouldn’t believe every single thing you hear. Also, I don’t. But this is cuddling, not spooning.”

“Ah, so you cuddle but don’t spoon. Got it.”

“Just shut up and let me sleep.”

\-----

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a long time ago for an author on [AdultFanfiction.org](http://www.adult-fanfiction.org/html-index.php) called [Lela Bonita](http://members.adult-fanfiction.org/profile.php?no=1296776011), she of the multiple Janitor/Cox fanfic experience. Go read her stories, if you haven’t. Those stories made me **believe** I could write this.
> 
> Also, if you studied medicine or worked in medicine or had anything to do with the practice of medicine that would make you a better-informed person as to the number of times a male is able to have orgasms and you know for a fact that my fic is based on a faulty, medically-improbable premise, I’d highly appreciate it if you keep that to yourself. My mind was too occupied with the mental picture of the Janitor and Cox making out to pay attention to what I was typing.


End file.
